


Opens at Nightfall

by J (j_writes)



Category: Now You See Me (2013), The Night Circus - Erin Morgenstern
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The card arrives without warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opens at Nightfall

The card arrives without warning. White on black on one side, black on white on the other, the corners edged in a delicate strand of red. _Hermit_ , it reads, the design on it faded and intricate and somehow intimately familiar. 

"I'll be goddamned," says Merritt, and he buys a red scarf off the next street vendor he passes.

They arrive at the bolted gates separately, within minutes of each other, and Merritt inspects each of the faces, each of the cards, putting the pieces together to make something that doesn't quite add up to a whole. 

Henley needs no scarf to advertise her place in this world. She arrives in a white coat with a black hat and gloves, her hair curling out in red waves, and it's only too easy to imagine the circus whirling to life under her watchful eyes. 

Jack's fingers are quick against the lock of the gate, nimble in their brightly colored gloves, almost not betraying his nervousness at all, until Danny leans over his shoulder to take a closer look. The gate yields to him as if it's been waiting a long time for them to arrive.

"Moment of truth," says Danny, adjusting the brim of his hat, and Henley reaches out to tilt it back.

"Is truth the word we're going with?" she asks.

The circus is silent as they enter, the light too bright from above, washing out the tents, leaving them dull and gray. It almost hurts to look at them, to hear the muffled echo of their steps as they make their way through the deserted maze, uncontested by music or laughter.

"What _is_ this?" Jack asks, just noise to fill the silence.

"You know what this is," Merritt tells him. "How many times have you been here? A dozen? A hundred?"

"Probably not as many as you, old man," Jack replies, but there's no bite to the words.

Merritt doesn't reply, not wanting to betray that he sees ghosts around every corner, memories in the shadows cast by each tent. It's almost a relief when they come to a break in the canvas and see the tree spreading out in front of them, the lights just barely visible under the sun, hazy and unreal. On a bench beneath it is a folded card, and a single rose.

" _Now you don't_ ," Danny reads, turning the card over and inspecting it, and Henley lifts the rose, twirling it between her fingers before crossing to drop it into the statue of a vase halfway across the courtyard.

Water slowly trickles out from the base of the vase, curling downwards and forming puddles around the shape of the roots beneath their feet.

"What - ?" Jack begins, but then the circus flickers around them, the tents folding and merging, stretching into plans and diagrams.

"A blueprint," Henley says, reaching out to manipulate one of the images, and so it begins.  
______________

There is a history to the circus, an order that becomes clear only gradually over the next year, as they craft tents first as individuals, then in pairs, and finally as they gather the pieces of the blueprints together, imagining them into a coherent whole.

The circus arrives in the desert beyond the Strip, and Henley twirls in delight as cash rains down from the ceiling, Jack bounding across the stage to slap Merritt five, Danny's eyes lighting up like he's only just now realized what it might mean, this thing that they have found themselves entangled in.

By the time they emerge from the police station, blinking in the harsh sun, the silhouette of the circus has disappeared from the distant horizon, and has reappeared in New Orleans.

"It's not about revenge," the fortune teller says as Merritt sits across from her the next night, looking up into a dome of stars that mean nothing to him. "It is only about doing what needs to be done."

"This needs to be done," he tells her, and she nods.

"Yes," she agrees. "It does."

There are tears in the audience that night, of joy and of so much more, and he leaves wanting more than anything to retreat to the circus, to the brightly colored lights of the tents, and the comforting scents of sugar and smoke. He stands in front of the clock for what feels like hours, watching the minutes tick away in its intricate dance of folding and becoming, and one by one he feels them appear at his side, the Lover, the Priestess, and Death.

"Ready for the final act?" Danny asks, and the chiming of the clock drowns out any reply they might have made.  
______________

The park is silent and dark, and Merritt is reminded of their first steps through the circus together, how deeply wrong and fractured the moment had felt. This time, Henley and Danny are comforting shadows beside him, their steps in sync with his, and when Jack meets them at the gate, pressing his card into Henley's hand on top of theirs, it feels like the last piece of the puzzle sliding into place.

The cards glow faintly, and when Henley holds them up, the tree ahead of them bursts into dazzling light, and the carousel beyond begins to turn and cast colors across the path. 

"The Wishing Tree," Henley says in an undertone, and Jack leans toward her to elbow her lightly.

"Make a wish," he says.

"No need," Merritt replies, his scarf flapping behind him as he leads the way forward to the carousel.

They are waiting there for them, three shadows, bent and smiling and familiar – the tellers of stories and fortunes and dreams – and beyond them, somehow contained within the carousel, is the circus, the whole of it, stretching out forever beyond the galloping horses.

"Come on, then," says the fortune teller with a hint of impatience in her voice. "You're invited."

"We've waited long enough," adds her brother, and Merritt reaches for Henley's hand, knowing without looking that her other hand is reaching out for Danny's, and his for Jack's.

"Ready?" he asks them, and Jack's reply of "Not really" is tinged with giddiness.

"Me neither," he agrees, and together they step onto the whirling carousel, and into their circus.


End file.
